


Under The Arches

by angryschnauzer



Series: Jaguar Good to Be Bad Boys [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial
Genre: Dirty Sex, F/M, Implied Murder, Rough Sex, Talk of Criminal Activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 22:47:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4367177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryschnauzer/pseuds/angryschnauzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr Hiddleston doesn't like to be kept waiting. Especially when the garage looking after his Jaguar is late returning it to him. He goes to give the mechanic a piece of his mind and instead ends up giving her a good seeing to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Arches

His car should have been ready by now. He did not like visiting this seedy garage, nestled into the arches underneath the District Line, trains nosily rumbling overhead. It should have been delivered to him at 4pm as specified. Now gone six and he was in a bad mood. Someone would pay.

Striding into the grimy office letting the door slam behind him, Mr Smith peered up from his newspaper;

“You need to speak to Alex”

Stopping in his tracks he venomously spat out his words at the rotund garage manager; “Who the fuck is Alex? Any why isn’t my car ready? Where’s Mickey?”

“Like I said, you need to speak to Alex. Something about the amount of blood in the carpet, it had to be replaced. And Mickey’s not coming back. He had an....unfortunate accident”

In their line of work, unfortunate accidents usually meant you were found floating face down in a canal two weeks later. The least said the better.

He strode out of the office and into the workshop, his Jaguar’s white paint gleaming like a beacon amongst the grimy surroundings. A pair of legs in blue workshop overalls could be seen bent over the engine, the sound of a pneumatic airline working beneath the bonnet. He stood behind the mechanic and cleared his throat, tapping his foot impatiently. He was not used to being ignored. Clearing his throat again he grasped the back of the overalls and pulled the mechanic to their feet, but the shock made him release the fabric. This mechanic was not was he was expecting, and seconds later he was pinned to the side of his own car, a large socket wrench held at his throat;

“What the fuck do you want?”

He was speechless. She was beautiful.

“I’m looking for Alex”

“Well you found her”

He was lost for words. The fiery redhead in front of him held him tight against the car, her strength rivalling his own, yet he was powerless to even try. Her green eyes glared at him as he drank in her features, long red hair pulled into a plait that trailed over her shoulder, errant strands of hair escaping their confines like a halo of fire around her head. A spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, just slight obscured by a smear of oil. He finally found his voice;

“My car...” gesturing with his eyes to the vehicle he was currently pinned against.

Releasing him she straightened herself in front of him, her height almost matching his own, she strode to the front of the car and released the bonnet, slamming it down to engage the latch;

“It’s done; I was just finishing off the last few details. Your turbo was running slow so I’ve retuned it. The carpet in the boot has been replaced, and the scratches on the inside of the boot lid are gone. Good as new”.

Not letting her off that easy; “Mickey would have finished by 4pm. This delay has been a big inconvenience”

“Yes, well Mickey couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His skull had an argument with my wrench and the wrench won. You fancy having a discussion with it too?”

“No. Maybe next time I’ll just take it to an officially approved Jaguar establishment”

She laughed at this “Oh please do. In fact you’d probably still be under warranty if it wasn’t for the fact it was running on stolen plates. Or that we had to clear out the remains of your _business associates_ from the carpet” turning away from him as she tidied her workbench.

He’d had enough of this, no-one spoke to him like this, let alone a lowly grease monkey. Grabbing her arms be thrust her against the side of his car, holding her hands behind her back he spoke into her ear;

“I think it’s time you learnt some respect”

Panting hard she pressed back against him “I think it’s time someone taught me how”

Pulling on her plait so that her head fell back he ran his lips up the side of her neck, biting the flesh, before grasping the front of her overalls and pulling them roughly apart, exposing the once white vest she was wearing beneath;

“Is this what you want?” Reaching round and roughly pawing at her chest

She responded through gritted teeth; “Yessss”

Pulling her vest up he exposed her tits, pressing her against the cool surface of the cars windows, he reached behind and grabbed a roll of tape, deftly strapping her wrists together behind her back before moving her down the side of the vehicle until she was bent over the bonnet. With one hand on the small of her back he pulled the overalls to her knees, before ripping her knickers at the seams, allowing him access to her peachy behind. Extending his arm high in the air, he brought it down with a hard slap against her right cheek;

“Do you like that? Are you feeling a little more respectful now?”

“I still think you can go fuck yourself” she spat out, but her breathlessness gave away her desire. He resumed his punishment, gripping onto her bound wrists as his palm made contact with her other cheek. He heard her groan, inciting his already hard cock to twitch within its tweed confines. Slipping his hand between her legs he roughly drove his fingers between her lips;

“Someone’s enjoying this, aren’t you? Your cunt is soaking you little bitch” pumping his fingers into her as she writhed beneath his restraints. He pulled his fingers free and reached round to her face;

“Suck” to which she drew his dripping digits into her hot mouth, savouring her taste on them. Once she’d sucked him clean he reached down and unzipped his fly, releasing his hard dick.

Aligning it with her entrance he thrust deep into her with the first push, not allowing her time to adjust to his considerable size. He immediately set off at a punishing pace, ploughing into her, using her body for his own pleasure. Over and over driving deep, soon her legs were trembling. He grasped onto her bound wrists for leverage and pounded even harder and deeper. Irrespective of her pleasure he punished her cunt, the tight hole grasping his thick dick as she started to shudder, he took one hand and pulled on her plait, making her back arch as he still held onto her wrists with the other. Soon she was screaming out, her voice being drowned out by the thundering noise of the 6:15 to Docklands rumbling overhead, coming on his dick as he continued to fuck her into oblivion, he was getting close and she’d started to go limp, bathing in the afterglow of her own orgasm.

Pulling out of her be spun her round and pushed her to her knees;

“Open your mouth”

She’d hardly time to respond before his dick was thrust deep, her lips tight around the slippery flesh. He grasped her head and sank in deep, the feel of her throat tight around his bulbous head, driving him over the edge. He came in spurts, filling her mouth, she released him before he’d finished, and he watched as he sprayed his load over her face and tits, dripping down in hot white ropes of liquid down her chest.

When he’d finished he stood back and tucked his still throbbing dick back into his suit, zipping himself up. His hand dipped into his pocket and passed her his handkerchief. Taking it she wiped her face of his seed, before reaching and passing him the keys to his car. She was first to speak;

“Scheduled service is in two weeks”

His lips curled into a cruel smile “I take it you’ll have learnt your lesson by then”

“Don’t fucking count on it” and she turned her back to him, busying herself with the workbench as he climbed in, gunned the engine, and roared out into the dark London night.

 


End file.
